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To salvage the passion that seems to have died in me, I decided to download all the sappy romantic movies I could find through torrent. I must have downloaded ten movies and two series in one sitting. I watched No Strings Attached, Beastly, and The Time Traveler's Wife. And then I saw Something Borrowed.

Actually, I saw it during one of the movie nights we have at home with my parents. I was writing a Bedroom Blog entry while my parents were watching the flick in the living room. At first, I didn't pay much attention to it because I was sure—as sure as the sun would be out tomorrow—that the movie was predictable, like Leap Year and Definitely, Maybe. The plot is always the same: Two people missed their chance then, so they chase it now, and they end up happily ever after. The end.

But, it wasn't the story line that grabbed me. It wasn't the actors either or, God forbid, the larger than life romantic gestures that make us all believe these moments can happen to us in real life. (I learned that the hard way.) So, no, it wasn't any of those things. It was the male character's name. It made me sit up and notice, and it actually felt like a smack in the face. Why? Because it was Matt's "real name."

If I were the same 22-year-old girl when the Matt episode happened, I would freak out and raise a knowing, slightly-confused-again face to the heavens, and obsess over what could possibly be another “sign.” Oh my God, another sign. Could the universe be telling me something again?

No.

Not again.

Please. Not again.

To be continued…

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